Book 1 – The haunting of Harrowstone
Please come to Ravengro immediately. My father, Professor Petros Lorrimor, has recently passed away and he's listed you as a beneficiary in his will, along with the request that you come to his funeral. Meet me at the Restlands outside Ravengro on the 6th of Neth in the morning. Once everyone required has arrived the funeral can begin.
Signed, Kendra Lorrimor
You received the letter almost a month ago but the words are still fresh in your minds.
Ustalav is a hard land. On the way to Ravengro you passed tracks of unploughed fields and the occasional ruddy-faced peasant, their cold eyes harder than the frozen ground.
It's a cold and windy autumn morning when you arrive. The sky is the colour of slate and a persistent drizzle has fallen throughout the morning, giving everything a washed out look. As you arrive you see the impressive wrought-iron gates that mark the entrance to the Restlands and a small group of people standing beside. They talk quietly among themselves, collars and hoods drawn up against the rain.
Beside them is a simple wooden coffin, sitting upon a cart drawn by a thin, miserable-looking pony. If this group represents the only mourners at the funeral it is a disappointing turnout indeed.
The group consists of three men, a younger boy and a two women. You would guess that two of the men are over 50 but their dispositions are very different. One is short and pudgy with several chins and a pale sweaty appearance. The other is tall and broad shouldered with a thick head of silver hair and a handsome goatee. The third man is middle aged and thick in the body, like a once muscular man who has succumbed to middle age and seen his powerful chest and flat stomach turn to fat. His short brown hair is combed back and he sports a thick handlebar moustache and rosy red cheeks. The boy beside him is thin as a reed, but their features are similar enough that you suspect close relation.
One of the women is in her late thirties, short and small-framed, tiny spectacles with thick lenses that rest on the end of her nose. She wears a small black hat that does nothing to protect her from the rain and huddles under an umbrella she shares with the woman beside her. She is tall and attractive, with pale skin and dark eyes that are currently red and puffy. She is wearing a conservative dress the colour of dried blood and has her soft, chocolate hair pulled up into a loose bun – seemingly the fashion in this part of Ustalav.
Her large, dark eyes turn toward you as you approach. She takes a deep breath as if gathering strength and she forces a smile to greet you. With a small nod of her head she says;
Hello. You must be one Father’s old friends, mentioned in his will. I’m Kendra Lorrimor, it’s nice to meet you. Might I have your name please?
The rest of the group stop whispering to each other for a moment and watch the new strangers cautiously.
Can everyone please introduce themselves, their journey to Ravengro, state of mind upon receiving the letter/attending the funeral and anything else you feel is relevant. For the sake of simplicity, even if you arrive in town prior to the funeral this will be your first contact with Kendra and each other and you will all arrive at the Restlands more or less at the same time, in the order that you post.
A young looking but handsome man stands there at 5'6" and looks like he weights about 125lbs soaking wet which at this moment he is. He wears travellers cloths that seem to be very worn from travel. He has a backpack and crossbow on his back and a dagger at his side. He walked into town leaving his families caravan about 50 miles south a distance he would gladly travel to pay his respects to this great man he will catch with his family and caravan on their travels at a later date.
Olav pulls his hood down revealing his long blond hair tied back in a pony tail that has been soaked through even with his hood up
Yes indeed I am, the name is Olav Helverson I was very sad to hear the news of your fathers death. My deepest sympathies to you
Olav offers a polite bow of his head
I'm glad I made it in time to pay my respects it was quiet a walk
Of average height and powerful build, the figure strides forward gracefully, his feet seeming to glide across the floor. He is clad in dark clothes; loose fitting shirt and trousers, tucked into soft, calf high mocasin type boots. Over his shirt he wears a long sleeveless coat of soft leather. Buttoned to his chest, yet loose from his waist down. He wears a wide-brimmed leather hat of dark leather on his head, and with the stiff collar of his coat turned up his features are difficult to make out. His sombre clothing broken only by the sash tied around his waist, this of a stiking iridescent green. He appears unarmed apart from a dagger tucked into his sash. On his back he carries a small backpack with a bedroll strapped to it.
His left arm is covered in an intricate tattoo from the back of his hand to his shoulder, depicting swirling designs and mystical symbols. On his right hand he wares a fingerless leather glove. His skin is a strang colour, pale with a slight sheen.
He speaks in a deep rich voice. "My name is Sebastian Skarsol. Long have I travelled. I had not seen or heard aught of the professor for many years, not since he aided me in a manner in which I shall not discuss now. I am glad I made it in time to pay my respects, though it is with some trepidation that I come as my debt remains unpaid. An obligation remains upon me that weighs on my soul. How strange Karma can be, no?"
A horse drawn carriage pulls up just outisde the wrough-iron gates, a tall elf appears and steps out he has green hair, soft hazelnut eyes and a pale complexion, he opens his coin purse and passes some gold to the drivers. The elf is wearing navy blue robes, leather belt and boots with a case and a brown satchel at his side and a backpack on his back.
The elf walks over to Kendra and offers his hand and speaks with a softly-spoken voice.
"Good morning my name is Davos Bixby, it's saddening that we have met under such circumstances. My deepest condolences for your loss, which of course is a loss for us all".
The three gentlemen arrive almost at the same moment.
She regards each and offers her hand.
Kendra Lorrimor. Thank you for coming and your kind words. I hope your journeys haven't been too difficult. I know it would have meant a lot to Father for you to be here.
The group behind Kendra dont say anything but watch with curiosity at the new arrivals. The man with the large moustache nods and touches the brim of his flat cap.
The drizzle continues unabated and begins to soak you through.
I believe we are waiting for three more. Do you gentlemen know eachother? I know Father had associates all over the Inner Sea.
Olav looks over the other gentlemen
No unfortunately I have not had the pleasure, Olav Helverson gentlemen nice to meet you
He does a polite nod to then both then turns back to Kendra
Sadly I have only met your father once but he has had a huge impact on my life and allowed me to live it as I wanted, but I have written to and had him write back to me many times over the years.
Sebastian nods to the others. "Well met. I had known that the professor was well travelled, but perhaps I did not realise how far he journeyed. Well, it seems he embarks on the next leg of a greater journey now."
He then turns to Kendra. "my apologies lady if I seem unsympathetic. You see all life is a wheel and part of something greater than these mortal shells. Our souls are immortal and the body but a shell. When one dies, the soul goes on to the next stage of our spiritual evolution. My experience of him was that he was a good man and therefore I believe he will have taken another step on the road to enlightenment. "
why does it always rain at funerals? at least all the ones I go to. I have heard it said the gods are mourning with us, pah! they just want another chance to piss on us before we end up in the wormy earth. this is going to be a long day
Sighing heavily the man gazes up the hill his bleary eyes just anout able to make out the gathering crowd, reaching into his coat he pulls out a dull silver coloured flask and popping the top open with a practiced flick of his thumb he drinks deeply.
slowly he begins to trudge up the hill toward the funeral, a carridge thunders past him spraying mud and water over his already soaked boots and trousers.
thank you too friend ! he says wearily, the extra filth not making much of a difference to his grubby clothing.
He finally reaches the gates of the cemetery and his heart lurches in his chest as he sees the coffin.
another good man taken, well done boys and girls
The other mourners turn at his approach, he stands above average height and appears to be well built, his wide shoulders are slightly hunched up as if the grey sky is pressing down upon him, his dark hair is rough and unkempt, it looks as if it has been cut with a bread knife. It lays plastered to his head beneath a crumpled navy flat cap, his dark brown eyes are rimmed with dark circles and look watery as if he has not slept for many days.
Several days worth of stubble cover his striking face, which would be handsome if not for the haggard appearance.
His jacket is a simple rough donkey jacket favoured by dock hands and farm workers, and bears the marks of hard travel.
Indeed it looks as if the man has not changed his attire in many days and a sour smell of cheap whiskey permeates the air around him.
jon Moulton , I had the pleasure of knowing your father lady, I share your loss but I know it is bitter comfort
Sebastian watches the arrival of the unkempt fellow. another interesting fellow. "hello. Sebastian skarsol at your service. What would your name be brother?"
He looks around as he waits a response and shudders. I cannot shake this sense of ill feeling. It is as if this place tires the soul, or perhaps I worry about why I was asked to attend. I owe the professor. I hope the price is not I pay is not too great.
Olav silently watches the others converse smiling as Sebastian explains about life as a wheel
That is a beautiful way to treat death
The suddenly almost like a sharp knife stab a grim realisation kicks in again that he is at the professors funeral and the smile quickly fades.
As Jon approaches and introduces himself Olav gives him a polite nod
The coach pulls up shaking Markus out of his daydream. The rain still hammering down, sun just breaking over the mountains to the east hidden by the clouds. "Bad weather to travel in... I only hope it clears for the funeral" The driver helps him with his bag he mutters something about Desna, Markus nods. "May Desna bless you and yours." Merkus then steps in to the coach book in hand he never stopped research never stops learning after the massive impression Lorrimor left on him, the sense of adventure and need to travel to seek our knowledge was bestowed on him by the professor.
As the ride goes on Markus pulls out the letter again and skims over it. Ravengro, what a strange place for the professor to settle down.. maybe he was researching something there I could never see him retiring. If only he had called me sooner I would have liked to have more late night discussing the finer points of faith and religion. He sighs "I guess this is our last goodbye." He then opens his book and starts to read with the long journey to come.
Markus arrives in Ravengro, fully expecting himself to be late for the professors funeral jumps out of the carriage,"Please can you keep my bag here, i'll be back to collect it later." He then dashes off to the Restlands.
Seeing the group all gathered at the gate, a flash of remorse washes over Markus I'm late, why did i have to be late to this. He then finally remembers why he's here to say goodbye to an old friend.
A man of 6 foot, long black hair tied back trods up the hill to the gate he seems to move at fast pace clearing the distance in short time. He wears a robe over his cloths a robe of red and purple with a butterfly on each sleeve. The rain hitting his hood as he slowly starts to get soaking wet, no matter how far he pulls his hood in he still get's rain in his face.
He sees the somber group all waiting in the rain next to a casket, a group looks like they belong here but then there are four other standing off to the side that stick out in a town like this. Is this all of the Professors friends? He was a brilliant man maybe they are the one's he truly trusted. He then notices a woman standing in front talking to some of the men. His daughter.. Kendra he spoke of her, such a bad reason for a first meeting He steps up to the grieving woman, a short smile flashes over his face but then remembers where he is. This is a lot easier when it's not someone you know. He then bows
"My lady Kendra? I am Maruks Valon, i received your letter i am most saddened at the lost of your father he was truly a great man." Markus then takes her hands into his. "It's never easy seeing a loved one to the grave, but i'm here to help and it seems he also had more friends that will help him to his last resting place." He then mutters something "Desna in all her glory help us take this burden"
Davos is taken back slightly that a human has similar views as the elves when viewing death
"Davos Bixby, pleasure is mine gentlemen. So it seems that the professor made quite few friends on his journey".
Davos says with a smile on his face
Thank you Mr Moulton, Mr Valon. Goodness, you all seem to have come such as long way! Father inspired many in his travels and was criticised and treated with suspicion by many others. But that was the naure of his work... she makes a distracted wave gesture as if dismissing the thought.
It's lovely that you all speak so highly of him.
She looks behind her to the group of mourners and makes a half shrug motion saying;
Excuse me a moment gentlemen. There is one more guest named in Father's will that we are awaiting and I hope others from the town are due to arrive as well. I just need to make some arrangments, I won't be a moment.
She returns to the other group and begins talking with the pale man with several chins, leaving you with eachother.
Olav awkwardly looks the others over as if searching for something to talk about
your all friends of the professor too then? If I'm not imposing may I ask you all how you knew him? Pupils of his are you?
His eyes linger on Jon for a moment and smiles
Or perhaps drinking buddies? I was a pupil of his for a very short time but in that time he taught me a lot and ever since we have been close, I am saddened I never made the time to come visit him again
Olavs face seems to wash over with grief at the though
Markus join the group that Kendra point out as being from out of town. I was right He then let's the silents hold for a second before talking.
"Hello it's nice to meet you all. I'm Markus Valon i'm a priest of Desna i knew the professor back in Magnimar he used to speak a lot in the lecture halls, i met him one time and he taught me a lot certainly change my life set me on a path of discovery, i'd say i'm part man of god and man of knowledge now." He then notices how long he'd be talking then just nods at the rest and let's other speak.
In the distance you hear what sounds like a galloping horse and the kinking of armour all too soon the sound becomes sight as a white stallion carrying a rider in red armour appears from the distance the horse does not stop until it's almost too late and you get the impression it had kept that pace for as long as it could, the man in red armour not a brilliant red but faded the paint worn over years of use discounts his horse he stands there for a moment to catch his breath and as he douse you notice he stands at around 5,9 but is is difficult to get a measure of his build under his unusual ornate armour. He takes off his helmet to reveal his dark olive skin and narrow brown eyes he is bald apart from a ponytail of straight jet black hair. As soon as his helmet is off the mourners recognise him, they do not have a chance to greet him however as he runs past them to the casket. The man falls to his knees his knees shaking, the rain beating down on him running down his face, masking his tears. He stays there for what seems like forever and you start to wonder if he will spend the entire funeral this way.
Kendra strides to the last arrival and puts her hand tentatively on his shoulder.
Sir? You must be master Ikkaku, the final person I was instructed to write to. My father must have meant a great deal to you. I am Kendra. Please join the other mourners.
At the sight of the strangers grief, Kendra begins dabbing her own eyes once more with a handkerchief.
Im sorry, she says to the group. I was hoping for more people to turn out from town but... she shakes her head. Her lips pursed in frustration or disappointment you cannot tell.
My father was not a strictly religious man but he wished his funeral to be of the Pharasmin faith. We are to carry his coffin through the Restlands to the graveside but Zokar, she indicates the man with the moustache, has a weak back and with no one else from town I dont know how we are to manage. I know you've all only jut arrived but my father clearly held you in high regard. It would be an honour if you would carry him to his final resting place.
The coffin can be carried by a minimum of four and a maximum of six if you offer to help.
Jon stands in the rain not really bothered by the weather, his heart heavy and his mood darkening by the minute.
He sees the look Olav gives him and it is one he is more than familiar with, his distaste evident. well have a good look pal, I couldn't care less what you think of me. I have every right to be here! I knew the professor too g@~ d$!n it! Jon silently curses himself for the fool he is I wish you were here to straighten me out again my friend, I need your strength! I should never have lost touch, and now I may never know the truth
I was not a pupil of the professors though he taught me many things nonetheless, I owe him a great deal, I suppose now it is too late for me to repay the kindness he once showed me
Just then the strange rider gallops up on his charger there are some unusual folk at this funeral, this man is far from home and the fellow with the tattoos is equally exotic , I guess the prof mixed in strange company. Ha ! he knew me after all ! So I can't judge really.
Turning to the man who introduced himself as Sebastian Jon offers his hand to the stranger.
names Jon Moulton , pleased to meet you, though the circumstances could have been better and I fear I am not at my best it was a hard journey for me. you are not from around here I am guessing
Looking at the group already gathered and at the rider now on his knee's he thinks The professor met a lot of people in his life..
"I will happily carry him to his resting place Kendra its the least i could do for such a brilliant man."
Markus steps up towards the coffin, places his hand on it and closes his eye's for a second.
"As you said the professor was not a religious man but we spent a lot of time debating it, he had a favorite passage from Desna i would like to recite when we have him in the ground if that's ok."
"The professor was a great friend to all of us standing here now it is evident,there is one last thing we can do for him and that's make sure he gets to rest." Markus tries to hold back as the situation finally starts to hit him. "I'm sorry i've been to many funerals but this is a little too close to home. When he is settled we should all get together so we can tell stories and remember this great man."
Jon nods to the professors daughter and gives her a half smile.
this is a burden I can easily bear lady, your father carried me often enough. It is an honour.
Jon begins to walk toward the coffin that holds the remains of his friend when suddenly a chill wind snatches the hat from his head, sending it flying into the nearest pool of muddy water.
Jon stiffens slightly and clenches his jaw,
today of all days I could do without this! bending over he leans down to retrieve his hat from the mud, as he does so his flask slips from his inner pocket, the flask hits the floor and quite impossibly seems to bounce off nearly ten feet from where Jon is bent over the muddy pool.
Jon curses under his breath cut it out you bastards!
roughly wiping his hat on his jacket he crams it back on his head and trudges off to retrieve his flask, slipping it back into his pocket he resists the urge to take a long drink!
"you are right my friend, I hope I may call you friend though I do not know you. Then again do we really know ourselves? Was it not the honourable toad that gazing at the reflected moon in The pond thought 'am I not a star resplendent in the heavens?'.." he stops talking realising he has wandered somewhat and clears his throat before continuing. "as I was saying I have travelled from a land far from this, though not as far as our mounted companion. Kendra it would be my honour to bear the professor's body to its final rest."
Oh. she says simply, as Olav declines to carry the coffin. Well... that's fine. Thank you, gentlemen, for helping me. We'd best be moving anyway, Father Grimburrow is awaiting us at the graveside.
The five of you lift the coffin easily onto your shoulders, the pony barely noticing the shift in weight from it's small cart. It continues to graze lazily at a patch of scrub grass beside the gate.
The walk along the Dreamwake is slow and mournful. Kendra leads the procession in small steps that the pallbearers match and Zokar, the moustachioed man, sings a funeral dirge in a surprisingly pleasant barritone, his voice cutting through the still autumn air. The others follow respectfully behind, the young boy holding the hand of the bespectacled lady.
The procession makes its steady way through the Restlands and you remark how well kept the graves are. This is a community firmly dedicated to Pharasma and followers of the Lady of Graves are nothing if not serious about death rites.
Somewhere not too far away, a dog yowls and follows it a moment later with a series of long, low whimpers.
Old River. the lady says from behind. He was always hanging around the Lorrimor place. I guess he knows Petros won't be there to give him scraps anymore.
You turn onto another path, this one known as the Eversleep and, to your surprise, you see a large group of men standing in the path. They are all dressed in rough jackets and woollen cardigans, pulled tight against the rain. You notice that many of them have rakes, hammers, spades and a variety of other farm implements.
As you draw nearer, the tallest of these men - an eldery, but wiry sort - steps forward.
That's far enough. We been talkin' and we don't want Lorrimor buried in the Restlands. You can take him upriver and bury him there if you want but he ain't going in the ground here!
Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into anger.
What are you talking about? she cries; I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He's waiting for us! The grave's already been...
You don't get it, woman. the man interrupts. We won't have no necromongers buried in the same place as our kin. I suggest you move out while you can. Folks are pretty upset about this right now.
Stunned, Kendra's mouth moves once or twice but no sound issues forth.
Piss off, Gibs! Have some respect! Zokar shouts from behind you.
Quiet, you tub of guts! one of the mob shouts back.
Olavs face seems to wash with anger
The professor never!
He takes a deep breathe and walks forward forcing a smile
Good day gentlemen, there must be some mistake this is the professor a trusted and great friend of all of us, could you please just move out of the way so we can lay him to rest. How would you like it if we stopped you burying your loved one mid funeral?
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Davos steps forward
"I'll help Kendra it be a pleasure to walk the professor on his next part of his journey"
Davos stands next to the coffin and lifts it up with the others
Guess this is it old friend
Davos unsure what to do with the situation just keeps quite and holding the coffin
1st Level (2 + 1)
Magic Missile - 1
Color Spray - 1
Snowball - 1
Jon cannot quite believe what he is seeing, his disposition this day was not the best to begin with but these ignorant hicks have really pushed his buttons.
He watches as Olav tries to reason with them and he is half hoping they won't listen to his reasonable request because he is beginning to feel quite unreasonable.
if these ignorant hicks don't pack up and leave I am going to do something fairly unpleasant to our ring leader gibs here he thinks darkly to himself
My old dear is buried 'ere! the man named Gibs roars. She'd be spinning in her grave to know a bunch of Elves and Ass-mers was trying to bury a necromonger next to 'er!
Necromancer? Kendra asks incredulously. Are you that ignorant?
Ig-!? a look of shock passes his face as he half form the word. Get 'em out of 'ere boys!
Initiative check vs DC 16
Olav: 1d20 + 3 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 0 = 11
Ikkaku: 1d20 + 2 + 0 ⇒ (15) + 2 + 0 = 17
Davos: 1d20 + 3 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 3 = 21
Markus: 1d20 + 1 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 1 + 6 = 25
Jon: 1d20 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (12) + 2 - 1 = 13
Sebastian: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 + 2 = 10
Heroes act <74%
1d100 ⇒ 49
Round 1 - Heroes
Might be worth bearing in mind no one has made an aggressive move yet.
Map updated. for Ikkaku's benefit, it is at the top of this page in a link called Burial Map. As for initiative; heroes now all go first followed by enemy all going together and it continues like that.
Olav can not control his temper any more,
How dare they spread such lies about the professor
Get of the way you narrow minded fools or suffer the consequences!!
Sparks of electrify seem to come from within his clenched fists
Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Jon leans out from the coffin he is carrying and looks directly at this gibs
I must control myself here, this is my friends funeral, I will not disrespect him by throwing the first punch so to speak
gibs, is that your name? the lady has asked you nicely and now i am telling you! back off, pack up your posse and leave or i swear by all the gods that whatever happens you will die first!
intimidate: 1d20 + 7 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 7 + 4 = 19
"Lets place the coffin on the floor, before it gets ugly gentlemen"
Davos lower the coffin down, then faces the crowd with anger strikes across his face
Markus is appauled at this group of men stopping a man from his last journey in life. He then takes one hand off the coffin and whispers something as he touches his chest.necromonger? what are they talking about, i have to get these men to stand down bit o luck
"Gentlemen can we all stop? He looks to both sides he men carryig the coffin with him and the men in front."this is no place for such talk, a man has died we are taking him to his final resting place please step aside you have no right to say who can and cannot be buried here."
diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Ikakku lowers the coffin along with his fellow travellers, He walks forward to v13 the look on his face is one of unbridled rage as he draws his Naginata from his back and holds it vertically at his side
"you have dishonored this mans memory for the last time now i'm giving you till the count of ten to leave my sight! 1.......2........3......"
Intimidate: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Sebastian skarsol gently lowers the coffin and steps back. Y15.
He spreads his hands and says in a serene voice. "Do you not see my brothers that this anger is unecessary? Anger is a double edged sword, indeed is it not true that you will not be punished for your anger; you will be punished by your anger?"
Diplomacy 1d20 ⇒ 8
Round 1 – Enemy
Ok, there’s quite a lot going on here. The first person to address the mob has the greatest chance to influence them. Unfortunately, because Olav failed his diplomacy and Jon and Olav failed their follow up intimidate checks, confrontation is inevitable at this point. Luckily, Markus rolled a natural 20 on diplomacy which certainly influenced part of the crowd, even if they were getting riled up by then.
As for the coffin, it is a full round action to set it down that provokes attacks of opportunity. Davos and Sebastian indicated that they were letting go but the others didn’t which could cause it to spill – you will need to all set it down together to avoid this. Sebastian – because it is a full round action you won’t be able to step back at the same time.
1d100 ⇒ 9 The three remaining pallbearers manage to keep hold of the coffin but without Davos and Sebastian it is becoming quite unwieldly.
thug 1, farm tool, nl, Jon: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (4) - 3 = 1 Miss
thug 2, farm tool, nl, Olav: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (12) - 3 = 9 Miss
thug 3, farm tool, nl, Olav: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (3) - 3 = 0 Miss
thug 4, grapple attempt, Kendra: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (10) - 3 = 7 Fail
Kendra, AOO, thug 4, umbrella: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (4) - 3 = 1 Miss
thug 5, farm tool, nl, Markus: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (10) - 3 = 7 Miss
thug 6, farm tool, nl, Sebastian: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (19) - 3 = 16 Hit
damage, thug 6, farm tool, nl Sebastian: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 Non-lethal
Round 1 - Summary
Olav appeals for calm but the mob seem hell bent on stopping this funeral. Angered by their obstinance, Olav, Jon and Ikkaku attempt to intimidate them into backing down. Unfortunately, their blood is up and it is only when Markus - his soothing voice cutting through the tension - calls them out on their foolish actions, that half of the group look at each other, mumble a few words and begin to back off. They look shame faced and a few even doff their cap at the funeral party.
Gibs is furious at this and shouts curses at them as they wander off although he appears to back away from the throng as well.
Six of the remaining mob rush forward and unbelieveably attack the procession! They clearly don't want to spill real blood as they poke out with the handles of rakes and swing with the flat of their shovels but as farm hands, none have any skill at arms and it is only one - with a lucky swing - who manages to land a blow on Sebastian's collarbone with the handle of his broom.
Round 2 - Heroes
Can't do map until later. there is one beside Jon, Markus and Sebastian, one trying to grapple kendra and two attacking Olav.
Olav takes a deep breathe to try keep his cool in the heat of the moment
They don't deserve to die for this but they shall be punished
He steps back to get a better position w12 5ft step
But with the distraction of one of the mob still next to him he must centre him self and control his anger
Concentration: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Olav points out the palm of his hand in front of him colour starts form from it but one of the mob manages to knock his hand with his broom causing the spell to fail
Markus sees the angry pick up in everyone, while still trying to keep hold of the coffin he still holds out that things can be changed.
"Gentleman! stop this! none of us need to fight this is a time of mourning can't you see what you're all doing?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
"I agree Markus. This is foolishness." Sebastian spins on his heel and locking his hand on his opponent's wrist, twists it and attempts to disarm him without hurting him.
Unarmed attack - disarm 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Assuming successSebastian smiles warmly at the fellow and gentle says. "Do not mistake understanding for realisation, and do not mistake realisation for liberation. Now my friend, I suggest you leave and take your friends with you."
Ikkaku takes a 5ft step to his right v14 as he does so he swings his Naginata over his head and brings it down with tremendous force attempting to cleave the thug in u12
Naginata: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 181d8 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Jon manages to avoid the ignorant hicks feeble attack, managing to sway to the side whilst still holding the coffin
ok enough of this !
As gently as he can he lowers the coffin to the ground, swinging back round he grabs the man and attempts to smash his head into his ugly unprotected face.
headbutt: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
dam: 1d3 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Davos moves around the coffin, stretches out his hand and unleashes a burst of colour.
1d20 ⇒ 18
1d20 ⇒ 8
1d20 ⇒ 13
Two of the men he targets hit the ground like a stone.
aoo, Jon: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (2) - 3 = -1 miss
Round 2 - summary
Sebastian deftly snatches the broom from his assailant with barely a flick of his wrist. The majority of his musings fall on deaf ears however as Davos spell renders the man unconscious barely a moment later.
Jon releases the coffin, grabs the farmland by the front of his jacket and smashes his forehead into the bridge of his nose. Blood sprays but the man is out cold before he hits the ground.
Ikkaku faces down his opponent. Though the labourer is armed with only a gardeners hoe, a rage falls upon the samurai. He brings his weapon down on the man's shoulder and splits him like a melon, the blade finally stopping on the man's sternum. The gout of blood is enormous as he drags the blade free and the man dies with blood bubbling from his mouth.
Tam!! one of the others cries. He just killed Tall Tam!
Everything else seems to happen at once.
At the sight of the slaughter Gibs turns and flees into the mist. The rest of the thugs throw down their meagre weapons, mixed looks of shock, horror and anger on their faces.
Oh my God... Kendra whispers in a small voice.
Zokar and the lady behind are speechless, their mouths wide "O's" of horror. For long moments, silence descends, the only noises are the teenage boy retching on his knees and the rain - drum drum drumming on the casket....
Olav stomachs turns at the gruesome death of the man in front of him and that mornings breakfast seems to make an appearance. He then wipes the sick from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve
You...You killed him? I know they were fools but they didn't deserve that!
Markus looks on as the boy gets cut in half by the angry man he only just met. "I told you nothing good would come of this! What have you done ?" Markus runs over to the man drops to his knees and checks the body.
"He was just using a broom!"
heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
He try's his hardest to bring the man back trying to close the gaping wound.
Jon staggers back rubbing his forehead vigorously as the pain of head butting the farm hand strikes him.
He turns as the sounds of retching and the cries of alarm come to him .
Walking over to the body he squats down next to markus and shakes his head.
desnas t!&% what the hell was he doing, these fools were harmless!
well done! What was your name? ickakoo? Do you think you could have made a bigger mess? these were simple villagers easily led, although I threatened gibs it was just hot air, I was trying to cow their leader. by the inheritor ! What do we do now ?
Reaching for his flask he takes another long swallow
Putting his hand on Markus shoulder he says
it is too late, he is beyond healing